


Torn Up

by Foxskip



Category: All Elite Wrestling, Professional Wrestling
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Light Angst, Shoot Names, but still kayfabe, i'll explain in the notes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-14
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-11 23:49:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28750965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Foxskip/pseuds/Foxskip
Summary: Chuck navigating words, Trent navigating emotions.Injuries suck. Set after the 12/23/20 Dynamite.
Relationships: Trent Barreta & Chuck Taylor
Comments: 8
Kudos: 19
Collections: Genuary 2021





	Torn Up

**Author's Note:**

> Decided to go with Dustin & Greg on this one because I've always liked how even during matches and whatnot they'll sometimes call each other their real names. Their characters can be pretty meta and I think that adds to who they are even in kayfabe.

He should be sleeping. Instead, Dustin was lying wide awake in an overly familiar hotel bed, trying to fight the urges to get emotional again or reach for his phone. Once Greg was discharged from the hospital a couple hours ago, Dustin and Orange tried to lift his spirits as much as they could until they left to their own room for a few hours of sleep before their flight home. So much for that. How the hell was he supposed to get any sleep when his best friend was hurting and having to deal with being out for so long? Dustin sighed and reached for his phone, sure that Greg was probably still awake too.

_Hey you awake_

The response was immediate.

_yeah_

Haha, of course he was on his phone.

_Your roommate guy already left right? Can I come over_

This time a couple minutes actually passed before he got a response, and Dustin started to feel a little bad about bothering him at buttfuck AM.

_sure_

Dustin pushed that feeling down and sent off a “ _cool_ ” before quietly getting out of bed and fumbling around for the keycard. He stepped out onto the carpeted hotel hallway and walked past the numerous other rooms until he stopped at the one he recalled was Greg’s and knocked on the door. There was some shuffling on the other side before Greg opened the door in what appeared to be hastily thrown on sweatpants and socks. His arm was in a sling across his bare chest.

“Hey man,” Greg greeted with a small smile. His voice sounded as tired as the worn out look on his face. Dustin felt a pang in his own chest.

“Hey dude.” Dustin gave him his own smile, mouth and eyebrows twisting in sympathy.

Greg stepped aside to let Dustin in, who awkwardly shuffled across the room, deciding to sit on the unoccupied bed facing Greg, who in turn sat upright against the pillows on his own bed.

“So, uhhh, hey man how’re you doing?” Dustin asked before the silence stretched on for too long.

“Fine? I guess? Just kinda tired.”

“Does it hurt a lot?”

“I mean, it’s kinda sore, but the meds kicked in so it’s not painful.”

“Cool, cool…” Dustin trailed off. “Man… I’m fuckin sorry. I should’ve been there to help kick those losers’ asses.”

Greg shook his head. “It’s not your fault dude. Honestly, I probably would’ve torn it whether those assholes jumped me or not.”

“Damn. Is this the price for having great looking titties?” Dustin let out a small laugh.

Greg’s eyebrows raised as he smiled back at him. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“Seriously though, how are you feeling, like, in your brain. You wanna talk about it?”

The smile faded from Greg's face. “Uhhh, not really. I already said I’m fine.”

“C’mon dude, I already know you’re gonna be sad at home. It helps to talk about it.”

“I’m used to it dude, seriously, I’m fine,” Greg insisted.

“No come on, just get _real_ with me for a second du—”

“I’m FINE, Dustin,” he snapped, “just stop asking. Okay?” Dustin turned his head away and felt his face get hot from the raised voice and knowing he further upset his friend. Uncomfortable silence filled the space between them.

 _Good fuckin job, Dustin, you came here to help him feel better, and now he feels worse thanks to your idiot mouth. Why didn’t you just listen to him?_ The silence was getting unbearable and Dustin considered quickly apologizing and leaving him the fuck alone. Sometimes you’ve just gotta give a guy space, right? But no, Dustin couldn’t just barge in here and bail on his upset friend after making everything worse. Sometimes you have to be an adult and own up to things like a real adult. Be a best friend instead of an idiot friend. He took a deep breath and lifted his head up, hoping he could trust his mouth this time.

“Listen, I’m sorry dude. I only wanted you to ‘Get Real’ because I care about you, not to pry at you. But, I should’ve listened to you. I can’t force you to talk about things if you don’t want to or you’re not ready to. That was wrong of me. I’m sorry.”

Greg didn’t immediately respond and Dustin let him think on it, staring at the picture hanging on the opposite wall to distract himself from having any more shitty thoughts. What even is that? A bridge over some green water? Lame. This hotel should get some better pictures so Dustin could stop thinking about how shitty everything was.

Eventually, Greg broke the silence and relieved Dustin from his thoughts. “The truth is... I did feel fine, because at this point I’m used to it. Which like, is maybe the worst part? It feels like every time things start really picking up I get injured again and have to be out for months and—” Greg suddenly found it difficult to talk around a growing lump in his throat, and Dustin felt his heart breaking. Greg tried to speak again but his face was getting all weird and twisty, and all that came out was a sharp inhale and a high pitched “Fuck.”

Dustin found himself climbing onto the other bed and pulling Greg into a hug. “Hey, hey,” he said softly, “it’s okay, let it out big cat.”

Greg leaned against Dustin’s chest and shoulder, breaths coming out in hard gasps as tears finally released from his eyes. “Fuck,” he said between breaths, “emotions are hard, man.”

“Yeah, I know buddy,” Dustin quietly replied. One of his hands was moving in placating strokes against Greg’s back. Greg lifted his free arm up to hug Dustin back, hand clutching on his shirt.

After a while Greg calmed down enough to be able to get words out again, but his voice still came out wobbly. “I hate that I’m used to this man. We’ve worked so hard for so long, y’know? We’re so fucking close and now my dumb body gets hurt again.”

“It’s not fair, so not fair,” Dustin murmured back. “But hey, think about how awesome our comeback will be. You’ll be all fired up and revving to go. I bet we’ll tear through the whole division no problem, get ourselves to the top in no time. No one’ll be prepared for us. No one!” he enthused.

Greg nodded against his shoulder, mouth turning up in a small smile. “Nice promo man.” They both knew that they couldn’t be sure what would happen in the future, but Dustin’s enthusiasm was infectious. Even if Dustin often couldn’t believe in himself, speaking the belief into existence made the possibility feel real, tangible, at least for now.

“I’m gonna miss tagging with you.” Dustin felt tears of his own run down his cheeks. When did he start crying? “You better come down to Jacksonville a lot too, okay? You and Kris can be weird injured aliens together.”

Greg let out a giggle at that and had a full grin now. “Yeah, I will.”

“And I’m gonna kick Miro’s ass for you too; get some sweet ass revenge. It’ll look so cool. But hoooly shit that has gotta be the last time we even get near him for a while. I’m so sick of that guy and Kip fuckin’ Sabian.”

“Yeah, me too.” Although both of their faces were wet with tears by this point it felt like a weight had been lifted from their chests. They continued hugging in silence until Greg softly spoke up again. “Love you, Dust.”

“Love you too, Greg.”

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this a few days ago but this is pretty bittersweet after last night huh? :")  
> Also was literally going through Sammy's vlogs trying to figure out what that picture in the hotel is.


End file.
